


Personal Space

by themostmarvelousimagines



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Dominance, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Porn With Plot, Sexy Times, Shameless Smut, Stranger Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 18:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15690840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themostmarvelousimagines/pseuds/themostmarvelousimagines
Summary: The reader attends a party as the DD for her friends, but winds up ditching the festivities for something- someone- a little more exciting.





	Personal Space

**Author's Note:**

> This was a dialogue prompt from tumblr that anon asked for! The prompt was "We have to be quiet" so it's integrated into the story. This was supposed to be a quick lil thing that ended up being a whole fic so....... do with it what you will lol  
> As always, I expect that there are a fuckton of typos despite hours of proofreading so I'm sorry :(

The night had proven to be boring from the start. All of your friends were busy getting drunk while you, the Designated Driver, were stuck watching the party from the sidelines and wondering what the hell to do with yourself. You did not get all dressed up just to sit around and be ignored by the entire room. Sure, they were all drunk off their asses and that was to be expected, but still. So far, your only company was a small glass of water and a slice of lemon.

It wasn’t until you felt a burning sensation on the back of your neck that things got interesting. It was that same feeling of being watched; like someone was there and could see you, but you couldn’t see them. You tried your best to ignore it, but you couldn’t seem to shake the feeling. It was like someone was begging for your attention in their mind and somehow you were picking up on it. As casually as you could muster, you slung your arm over the back of the couch and looked over your shoulder, scanning the crowd behind you.

Squeezing the lemon wedge into your water, you eyed the guests one by one, trying to find the culprit who was putting you on edge. However, everyone you observed was far too intoxicated to even notice your presence. Just as you were about to give up, a pair of steel-blue eyes locked with yours from the corner of the room.

Gotcha.

In an attempt to assert your dominance, you held eye-contact, raising a single eyebrow and taking a long sip from your glass. He was handsome, that was for sure, but it was the kind of handsome that made you want to stare at him until you went blind. His dark brown hair was in a delicate bun at the base of his neck, the collar of his suit having pulled several strands free. Those gorgeous blue eyes were slanted ever so slightly, staring you down, making you shift in your seat. When his perfect lips pulled up in a half-smirk, you had to force yourself to tear your gaze away.

You could still feel the tingling and burning, but now it had spread from your neck, over your shoulders, and down your spine. Swallowing hard, you stood from the leather couch and straightened out your clothes. You placed your half-empty water glass on a nearby table and started squeezing through the crowds of well-dressed and drunk-as-all-hell strangers. The pulsing bass from the music made your heartbeat feel more intense, and it became harder and harder to breathe by the second. The burning was still spreading, now having flooded through each of your fingers.

You shoved open the first door you could find, which wound up being tinted, glass double-doors that led to a dimly-lit and uncharacteristically empty balcony. The doors shut behind you and you took several deep breathes, the music still shaking the world around you. You leaned your back against one of the doors and stayed like that, eyes closed, until you could still your racing heart. Thankfully, the burning from before was fading, leaving you with a strange, empty feeling in your veins.

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when the other glass door opened, revealing the man from before. He was much taller than you had anticipated, allowing him to tower over you easily as he closed the door with his foot and took a few steps in your direction. His expression was much softer than it had been during your staring contest, but still held a certain something that made your knees weak.

“I’m not intruding, am I?” He asked in a honey-smooth voice.

“No, not at all,” You answered quickly, “I just needed some air.”

The stranger smiled once and glanced around the balcony, wandering around aimlessly and trailing his fingertips over one of the many outdoor couches. You couldn’t help watching him as he moved, noting the way he swayed when he walked, or the delicate way he touched the furniture. An image of his hand sliding up your thigh flashed through your mind and you nearly dropped to the ground. You carefully made your way to one of the couches that appeared to be out of view from his line of sight, then slowly lowered yourself into the cushions.

“You know, I’m not even sure whose house this is,” The man said over his shoulder.

“You don’t?” You asked.

“Not a clue,” He chuckled softly, “I just followed my friends in, then suddenly they were gone.”

“Huh,” You replied, “Same thing happened to me.”

“What a coincidence,” He said. You watched carefully as he paced around the balcony, still running his fingers over whatever was within reach. It was only then that you noticed he was wearing a glove on one hand, but not the other. For curiosity’s sake, you dared to ask him about the choice in hand-wear, but couldn’t come up with the right words. Instead, you just stared at the gloved hand with a perplexed look written on your face.

He seemed to have noticed this, because he’d stopped wandering around the balcony to lock his attention onto you. “One of my friends said it would be a fashion statement.”

“Oh,” You said simply, “That’s-”

“Dumb, I know.”

“No! I wasn’t going to say that,” You quickly spat out, “I think it’s… interesting.”

“Can’t say I agree with you on that one,” He replied. Throughout your conversation he’d made his way from the other side of the balcony to the couch where you sat, taking a seat beside you and leaning back into the cushions.

“Why not just,” You started with a shrug, “I dunno, take it off?”

This earned you another charming smirk out of him. “That’s funny, I was just thinking the same thing about that dress of yours.”

Your mouth fell open in shock and you stumbled for words, but all that came out was stutters and awkward little laughs. Your entire body had gone rigid, like you’d just looked Medusa in the face and only partially lived to tell the tale. The man seemed entertained by this, because while you were busy trying to remember how to speak, he was busy leaning in close and placing a gloved hand on your knee.

“I hope I’m not being too forward with you,” He whispered in your ear. “Just can’t help myself sometimes.”

It still felt as though your whole body had turned to stone. It took some effort, but you managed to pivot your head to look him in the eye, which, in hindsight, was a very bad idea. The silvery-blue eyes you’d come to know where gone, replaced by pitch-black pupils. His nose was mere centimeters from touching yours and, since both of you had your mouths slightly ajar, your breath mingled between you. In an act of bravery, you dared to tuck a single strand of chocolate hair behind his ear, letting your fingers idle just below his jaw.

He must have taken this small action as encouragement, because the next thing you knew, a pair of lips were connecting with yours. The burning sensation from earlier had returned, rushing through you the moment he kissed you. Your back arched involuntarily, forcing you to sit up straight and causing him to wrap an arm around your waist while his free hand rested at the base of your neck. Reminding yourself to breathe, you rested both hands on the front of his suit and balled them into fists, grabbing some of the smooth fabric in the process. Before you knew it, his lips were retreating and he was using his gloved hand to glide his thumb over your lower lip.

“I don’t know your name,” You blurted, trying to catch the breath he’d stolen from you.

“What, are you worried you won’t know what to moan later?” He chuckled, turning his lips to the space of skin beneath your ear. His comment sent a tidal wave of anticipation crashing over you and, mixed with the feeling of him pressing feather-light kisses to your neck, you found yourself very lightheaded. You anchored yourself to Earth by pulling his hair out of the bun and grabbing a fistful of his locks. This only egged him on, causing him to apply more pressure in his kisses while his hands roamed your body.

“Maybe,” You responded, though you knew his question seemed more like a flirtatious joke rather than an actual question

He laughed through his nose and brushed his lips against your ear. “You can call me James.”

Before you could respond, he was kissing you again. He began gathering you in his arms and lifting you from the couch, being careful not to detach his lips from yours. Soon, you were being shoved against a wall, one of his legs separating yours while he slid one hand down your waist, over your hip, then coming to a halt at the hem of your dress. Just like you’d pictured earlier, his warm fingertips slipped beneath the fabric and he began pushing it upwards, taking his time to graze every inch of bare skin that he could.

As he did this, his lips left yours and he set to work on one specific spot where your shoulder met your neck. He was all teeth and tongue, obscene noises filling the air as he marked your skin. You were so busy being hypnotized by his mouth that you hadn’t even noticed the hand that had pushed past your dress, pulled your panties to the side, and made a home in one particular place that you’d been dying for him to find all night. His deft fingers caressed the spot that you were aching for him to explore more, but he wasn’t giving you what you wanted. He was just gentle enough to make you squirm, but not enough to elicit any sounds from you.

“Something tells me you like this,” James murmured, pressing down only a fraction harder. This got a small whine out of you, but he seemed to want more, so he tested the waters and firmly pressed two fingers against the sensitive spot. As he did this, he made a point of biting down on the place on your neck that he’d been spending most of his time. The two actions got him what he wanted, which was for you to moan out his name.

“Shhh, angel,” He hushed you, “We have to be quiet.”

“You’re making that kind of difficult,” You said, slightly agitated. James’ hand was still flush against your skin, so he used it to his advantage. His eyes locked with yours and he began moving his fingers in small, firm circles, causing you to lean your head back against the wall and bite your lip. A million curse words filled your mind, but only one managed to worm its way out, and it started with an “F.” The sound of him laughing gently suddenly made you keenly aware of that fact that you were basically dripping against his hand.

Frustrated at the fact that you’d been putty in his hands the entire time, you gripped the front of his suit and yanked him forward, planting a rather aggressive kiss to his flushed lips. He faltered a bit, but didn’t stop you as you began to undo the first few buttons on his navy button-up. The moment your fingers met his skin, he shivered in delight, breaking the kiss for a split second to let out of the softest moan against your lips. His hands had both come to grip your hips, his fingers digging into your skin over your dress.

“Something tells me you like this,” You repeated his comment from earlier. James laughed a small, breathy laugh, but stayed mostly silent, almost like he was waiting for you to touch him more. This filled you with a sudden sense of power, so you slowed your movements, making a point of undoing the buttons at a snails pace. Every brush of your fingers against his chest, then sternum, then abdomen, made him break out in goosebumps and release the most devilish moans you’d ever heard.

You finally reached his belt and, just to keep him on alert, you undid the buckle quickly, a stark contrast to the slow-paced unbuttoning of his shirt. His breathing became uneven as you craned your neck to place kisses along his collarbone, up to his ear, where you began creating your own mark with your mouth. Meanwhile, you’d let your hand stray further downward, brushing the front of his pants in an agonizingly gentle manner. With a frustrated growl, he grabbed your wrist and pinned it beside your head, then laced his fingers with yours.

James was just about to wrap his free arm around your upper half when a shrill, high-pitched noise filled the night. Both of you jumped and turned to face the sound, but you were the only one to sigh in relief upon finding out it was just a firework. It didn’t surprise you much that whoever was hosting the party had fireworks, but it definitely made you a touch annoyed. James, in contrast to your relief, was groaning, and not in the ‘you’re seriously turning me on’ kind of way.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” He started, pulling away from you. “But… that’s… kind of my signal.”

“Your what?”

“Like I said, hard to explain,” He repeated as he began buttoning his shirt, “It’s a work thing. I have to go.”

You raised an annoyed eyebrow at him, but he didn’t notice until he was done straightening himself out. When he looked up and saw your irked expression, he took a deep breath and moved in close once again. His hands went to the familiar spot of your waist and he leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes in the process.

“I can’t tell you why, but what I’m about to do is really important,” James said in a soft voice, “Trust me, I’d love to stay, but I can’t.”

“Buck, come in, did you get the signal?” An unfamiliar, disembodied voice said.

“What the f-”

James touched his index finger to the inside of his ear and looked to the side. “I got it. I’m on my way.”

“Hurry it up.”

“I’m on it.”

“What the hell was-” You stuttered.

“Work,” He said with a small smile. “Look, I really have to go, but I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay…” You trailed off.

“You know about Stark Industries, right?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Perfect,” He said, sounding relieved. “Call their main offices tomorrow and ask for Bucky.”

“You work for Stark Industries?” You asked, shock filling your voice. “And who the hell is Bucky?”

“I am, and I don’t work for Stark Industries,” He laughed, “But I do work with Tony Stark. Look, I shouldn’t be telling you any of this, but just- just call them.”

“Okay,” You nodded, giving him a confused look.

With one last smirk, James gripped your waist tight and planted one final, lingering kiss on your lips. It was different from the others- less hungry, more meaningful and overflowing with emotion. After his very brief exit back into the roaring party, you were left reeling from whatever the hell had just happened. You stayed on the balcony, fireworks blaring in the background, and tried to figure out why he would tell you to ask for Bucky and not James. Was it some kind of work nickname? Or, maybe, he’d lied when he said his name was James. The more you thought, the more confused you became.

Then it hit you like a ton of bricks, and you had to sit down for a while.


End file.
